


Bravery

by Coordinator



Series: the deer and the wolf [1]
Category: Lobotomy Corporation (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, listen to my song, this is probably a rarepair but i don'tcare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:08:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22386955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coordinator/pseuds/Coordinator
Summary: The world is ruled by the strong.Accept this as fact, that it will never change.Do not fight it, do not challenge it, do not even try to raise your head;For the tallest blade of grass will be the first to fall.If you do, however...That is the sort of splendid person I might consider 'brave.'
Relationships: Garion (Lobotomy Corporation)/Michelle (Lobotomy Corporation)
Series: the deer and the wolf [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1612921
Comments: 6
Kudos: 9





	Bravery

"You aren't the usual chaff the Associations send me. Are you going to die quickly?"  
  
The woman she was told is called Garion is circling her. If it weren't so _terrifying,_ the sensation of being evaluated almost might have made her _laugh._  
With her flowing coat and her steely stare, she might as well have been death itself; clad in fine black and gold, so much more than the drab colours most Association henchmen wear.  
Calling her that might be a mistake, though, er...  
  
"Probably..."  
  
It was to be a temporary meetinghouse, the kind she's seen so many times before.  
The roof is all ruined, with yellow-orange phosphor pouring in from outside.  
And the halogen sky is beautiful, but...  
  
Garion freezes in place, leaning easily against a broken tree, then sprawling out against it as if it were a throne.  
  
"What an interesting answer. Aren't you frightened?"  
  
" **TERRIFIED!** "

 _Shaking and crying._  
_That's all she knows how to do._  
_If I shake and cry, the problem goes away, and I can go back to being forgotten.  
  
_Perhaps Garion's eyes are not eyes, but a pair of carbon stones that lost their way from becoming diamond, and fell from a burning sky.  
Garion must be able to see the fear in her eyes, and that it's real. You can't fake the terror of death, at least she can't, because -  
  
"Why did you come here on your own power if you are..?"  
  
And Michelle is silent.

* * *

They walk through the empty ruins of what might have been a marketplace.  
How beautiful the Outskirts are, and how desolate; she would have been terrified of even this short excursion, too, but with the power of an Arbiter at her side...  
  
In the safety of Garion's shadow, Michelle can pretend this place is as safe as any other.  
  
"Do you usually depend on the strength of others so obviously..?"  
  
What an ugly smirk.  
What a terrible, cruel, hateful smirk.  
... What a beautiful smile.

"I... I'm not strong, like you, so..."  
  
"Oh, I'm not particularly strong. I embody strength, but that's not the same thing."  
  
Rain, the kind of pale rain that stings like acid, seemed set to fall; and with a flick of her wrist, Garion _commands_ it to return later.  
Michelle watches, and the mixture of fear and envy is a demon against her face.  
  
Unconcealed and unhidden, fundamentally _innocent_ as it is, it only causes Garion to break out in a fit of laughter.  
  
"How terribly jealous. You'll make a fine pawn. So, as my pawn, answer my previous question."  
  
It wasn't a question, itself, but a continuation of the one before - and itself a **command.**

She stops in place, her fists tight.  
She's smaller, and weaker, and scared all the time.  
Her fists feel like carbon, too. Crunched inward, until they'll break into fragments.  
  
"You... Haven't given me... Anything I want. Yet."  
  
Garion stops in place, watching her, head against her palm.  
Slowly - she smiles.  
  
"What a beautiful response."

* * *

The buildings here are all stone; like they were built in another time.  
Michelle wonders if stone, real stone, was common in those days. Not some luxury that had to be salvaged or dug from the deep earth, or artificially 'grown' under perfect laboratory settings.

She's starting to get a feel for her, now, this arbiter.  
  
Garion doesn't sit, she - saunters, from place to place. Like she already owns it. Like it's already _hers._  
When she sought a contact to protect the people she cared about, and to - ensure her own success, even in the face of... Setbacks...  
Of all the agents of the Claw her informant had found, she chose Garion.  
  
Because Garion was powerful.  
  
That was it, really.  
  
And yet it's the confidence in every motion, the way her cloak flutters around her like a gilded shadow that's kept her from running, like she always does.  
Garion's inquisitive smile never fades, and she's almost silent. Just - watching, waiting for some mistake, some pause.  
Perhaps she's waiting for a chance to devour her whole.  
  
...

"You wouldn't understand this. You haven't been... Blackmailed, and picked on, your entire life."  
  
"Mmn. _That's right._ I prefer to do the former, rather than have it done to me."  
  
From somewhere, Garion has produced a pale porcelain cup.  
It's cracked, with red trim.  
... She can't help but stare. It's very cute.  
  
"Do you care for some? In the past, this was called Dimbula black. I hear it was the favourite of witches and devils."  
  
"Well, I'll never be a witch _OR_ a devil!"  
  
Her defiant yell is too much, and Garion doubles over, unable to stop herself from laughing.  
Michelle continues to wait, praying that the red will fade from her cheeks, but it just keeps spreading.  
Finally, Garion stops - but _only_ because her stupid teacup is in danger of spilling.  
  
Stupid...  
Tea...  
  
"I'm sure you won't, since neither of those things exists. Regardless, you could stand to eat a bit more. Come. Sit with me. I'm lonely."  
  
Uncertainty plagues her mind; it feels like a trap.  
She's been caught in too many of them not to be cautious, and yet...  
Michelle sits next to the witch/devil, all the same.  
  
It isn't the worst feeling.  
  
Her own cup is crisscrossed, blue against white.  
She runs her fingers against the rim, and feels a terrible sense of loss, without knowing why.  
  
"... These were quite common, you know."  
  
"Before the - before the Wings' War?"  
  
"Far before that."  
  
... Even if the tea was meant for supernatural beings, it's soft, and not terribly bitter.  
Her lips settle against the rim of the cup, and she drinks deeply.  
And Garion frowns.  
  
"You'll barely savour it, like that. You really - don't eat much, do you..."  
  
"A hag like you that hasn't lived a day in poverty wouldn't know what it's like!"  
  
"Mmn. You're cute as a button, when you're angry... Alas, I'm not entirely a stranger to your, ah, _plight._ Wait."  
  
Garion gestures towards one of the leafless and shuddering trees.  
They're all still alive, but barely - this far out, any that carry leaves are likely as dangerous as anything in the Black Forest.  
But the gesture seems to make the tree pause, remembering something, a form it held - long, long ago.  
  
"What is that?"  
  
"A fig. It's a type of fruit. You might be surprised, but you can eat it to provide your body with energy."  
  
Lips pursed and trying to look more confident than she feels, Michelle seizes the fruit roughly.  
Stupid tea. Stupid fig. _How do you open it..._  
  
"If you're having trouble, all you have to do is ask."  
  
Garion's voice is melodious, deep and husky. It's also cruel, and mocking - but yet...  
Not unkind.  
  
And yet, Michelle ignores her, refusing to give up until her hands feel sore.  
  
"You're quite stubborn."  
  
"It's all I have."  
  
She cedes the fruit to her tormentor, and Garion's fine teeth sink into the violet flesh.  
The sight is impossible for her to turn away from, even as Garion extends a pale hand - and in it, the half-bitten fruit.  
  
"Are you kidding me, I coulda just bitten it..."  
  
"You tried very hard. I don't hate that."  
  
Sighing, Michelle bites into the fruit.  
It is - less sweet than she expected it, less strong than the artificial plants grown under artificial suns and sweetened with artificial powders.  
But something about it is - familiar, uh, oh, oh dear...  
  
"They used to have tiny wasps in them. Tiny little wasp corpses..."  
  
"Ew!"  
  
But she doesn't really care, and that's not what she was thinking about.  
Also:  
  
"Er, what's a wasp?"  
  
Garion's distant smile is tragic, and not for the first time Michelle wonders just who she's looking at.  
  
"A nothing, that once existed. There are still figs now. We no longer need wasps, so we got rid of them. Mmn, and it's worth mentioning I was lying; even when humanity depended on them, the plant devoured them, they were never a part of the fruit itself. I just - wanted to see your panic, once more."  
  
Michelle's still thinking about the warmth of the sun-ripened fruit, and something else.  
She swallows, and doesn't know what to say.  
  
"That will happen to you, as well. If we are successful, you will be absorbed. Nothing will be left of you once you are a part of our Association, Michelle. And if you fail, mmn, then you'll be absorbed by your friends. Terrible choice, really."  
  
"... I know."  
  
Licking her lips, she chooses her words carefully, and tries not to breath.  
  
"But I..."  
  
_I want to be someone else!  
I don't want to be innocent!  
I don't want to be a coward!  
I want to be **me!**  
  
I...  
Want...  
  
_Her hair falls down around her, and even that one cowlick she can never tame droops, just a little.  
She's surprised at the warmth of Garion's hand against her back; she felt it would be so much colder.  
  
"You can go, you know. You've impressed me."  
  
That isn't what caused her to think so hard, and she voices it.  
  
"Why did you call me by my name, earlier?"  
  
"Is that unusual?"  
  
"... Maybe."  
  
Michelle whispers, uncertainly.  
  
"Well. I hate games, almost as much as I love to play them. What do you _want,_ Michelle?"  
  
"To be more like _you._ "  


* * *

Once the shock has left Garion's face, she quickly puts a mask of confidence back where it belongs, languorously dropping from the tree as if it were an extension of her body.  
Michelle - tries to do the same, and simply falls.  
Garion makes no effort to catch her, extending her arm stiffly, at the last minute.  
  
... And perfectly grasping her.  
Michelle simultaneously rues, and is thankful for, her small stature.  
  
"Putmedownplease. Thank you. I - my entire life, even the people I care about..."  
  
"You could choose better role models, you know. Even now, I could easily kill you."  
  
"And you don't see how someone could... Wish they, too, could..."  
  
"Oh - _I_ see. Would you like to talk, a little..?"  
  
So Michelle does just that, and Garion _listens._ Really _listens,_ as if it's the most fascinating thing in the world.  
Her boring life, and the parts where it was - less boring. The parts she wish she could cut out, because they make her weak.  
And every time it boils over, and she just wants to scream, Garion says something.  
  
"I don't know if I could have done that."  
  
"I'm impressed."  
  
"You did well."  
  
... And there isn't a trace of a lie in it, not once, not in anything she says.  
  
Michelle's brain screams at her, tells her there must be some trick, some trap to this, that Garion is a skilled manipulator of hearts - of people, of...  
But, Michelle isn't entirely _innocent_ in that field, herself.  
She can sense the quiet resolve in Garion's lonely thoughts.  
  
"Hey, if I - if I agree to betray the people who trust me..."  
  
"Mmn?"  
  
"Maybe I'll betray _you_ later, too."  
  
And Garion doubles over in laughter, once more.  
But Michelle just smiles, cheeks red - but proud.  
  
"If you can succeed, I'd hand you my crown, myself."  
  
"But you don't have a crown?"  
  
"Hmph. A metaphor, I forgot - you scientists are all so dreadfully _literal_."  
  
Garion pauses; they've walked the entire old city bloc, and have returned to the ruined house that was their rendezvous point.  
She draws a finger to her lips, and Michelle watches the motion, trying not to betray _herself_ and her own emotions.  
  
"All right, then. What is it you want in exchange for becoming a _traitor,_ Michelle? I know many things, and can do much more. I'm curious to see what your price is - I'm easily disappointed, so - "  
  
Wordlessly, Michelle narrows the distance.  
It is not a _good_ kiss. She has always been too greedy, too selfish. She has to stand on her toes; her labcoat has snagged on thorns that scratch rather than sting, and to her surprise, Garion is just - wobbling, somewhat.  
  
Then, she feels that familiar, melancholic warmth against her back.  
Garion kneels down slightly, and her lips are soft and unfamiliar fruit.  
Michelle shuts her eyes, and tries to imagine the moment lasts.  
... Before breaking it, first.  
  
"Well, I've - taken what I've wanted."  
  
Her hands drift behind her back, as if she's trying to look cute.  
In reality, she's trying not to shake. Not to cry.  
This once, just this once, it's just a nervous reaction - something...  
Weak people do.  
  
Also, the silence -  
  
"That can't seriously be all - "  
  
Garion's incredulous whisper is victory to her, in and of itself.  
  
"When I'm successful, how about you tell me if... You have something you want. That'll make it fair."  
  
In the dead forest, the silence is all-consuming.  
A gentle laughter, almost as quiet as a summer breeze.  
Michelle risks turning around, but Garion has turned her back to her, and is simply staring at the blue-green sky.  
  
"You - did surprise me. That much, I'll give you."  
  
Garion's fingers comb through her dark hair, and her head tilts to the side - so that Michelle can catch the ghost of a smile.  
Distant, and sad.  
  
"But the world is never fair. Even so..."

She stretches out her hand, and without hesitation, Michelle takes it.  
  
"... I accept your betrayal. And I'm looking forward to you keeping your promise."  
  
Michelle smiles, and laughs bitterly.  
  
"Don't - expect too much, from me..."  
  
"I won't. But... I think you're quite brave, Michelle. Much braver than I."  
  
And the words linger, even as Garion disappears, walking into the falling skyline and through it, hand held out in challenge to the heavens above.  
Her fingers touch her lips, briefly, and Michelle knows what she has to do.

**Author's Note:**

> sorry i am literally just writing romance it's the absolute state of it lads
> 
> So! This is prooooooobably a pretty rarepair, but because you're trapped **here** with _me_ (or not! you can always click back, iffn' you like! I will never ever judge you!), I'll level. I feel like Michelle is the type of person who desperately wants to be someone else. Where Hod wants the adoration of people, Michelle wants to be free of - a lot of things. Carmen's inspiration and belief and compliments, they were all a potent way to bring her over, but...
> 
> Garion is strong.  
> She's independent.  
> Hell, who's to say she's not even the Head?! (This is Michelle's train of thought. Not mine.)
> 
> And maybe, part of her hopes that the meeting goes poorly, and...  
> But it doesn't.
> 
> And now she has to betray Lobotomy, because - she might have just...  
> Oh, shit... Fallen... A bit...
> 
> But even if she dies, somebody knows. Somebody won't call her 'innocent' and 'cute', at least not just those things.  
> Someone believes in her. Hell, maybe it's even a lie!..  
> It almost doesn't matter.
> 
> To her, it's as captivating as - something she could never have.
> 
> Flipped a bit...
> 
> Garion, despite being having the highest body count of anybody in story (nice)... Well, I think I've done a good job of capturing the melancholy she must face. If you want my reasoning on that, please wait for the smol story I'll have in my main collection.
> 
> I generally plan to do main character shippy stuff outside of it, so that I'm not limited by having to have things be A): concentric and B): on schedule, uhuhuh. I'm such a cad.  
> That being said, thanks for reading.
> 
> . . .
> 
> I really stan bottled anger Michelle & Hod as concepts.  
> I'm sorry, Michelle losing it and just going **aAAaAAAAAAAaaaAAaAaAAa** ft. Punishing Bird is my soul.  
> Let her be angry. she tries so hard and nobody even gives a fig
> 
> oh wow it even became a pun damn wow wow damn


End file.
